A Mother's Love
by Skye Larson
Summary: Vignette about friends and how things can fall apart so easily.


She was an attractive young girl who had grown into an attractive young woman; he had been a handsome young man. She had brown hair and brown eyes, her body more on the petite side, with an olive skin tone. He had blonde hair and green eyes, was around a reasonably average height, with a tannish-olive skin tone.

They married, became big shot lawyers or surgeons or something. A few years into their marriage, the couple gave birth to twin boys. Each boy had a small thatch of black hair on their head, and the blue eyes that all babies are born with. But a few months later, the blue had not gone away. One boy had midnight blue eyes, the other ice blue like a husky.

Their parents didn't like their strange looking sons. _ Their _children, who only shared the same skin tone as them. Once when the boys were around three, the mother had been walking with them when a lady bent to ask about them.

"What handsome boys! Are they identical?"

The mother had tucked the lighter eyed son's face against her hip, smiling a fake smile, "Yes, identical."

Why? Because to her, the one with the darker eyes looked more normal. The one with the cold eyes unnerved her, sent chills up and down her spine. They didn't have faces only a mother could love, they had faces that anyone but their mother would love.

When the boys were four, their mother had her third child, a daughter. The girl had dirty blonde hair, green eyes. Her parents cooed and 'aahed' over their darling little girl, their beautiful baby girl. The boys had been left home with a baby sitter.

The girl was spoiled rotten. By the time she turned four, the parents were never home. However, they still sent her gifts and whatnot from around the world. But their boys were getting older, and as they grew, they were steadily ignored. The only acknowledgement from their parents was the nanny's dismissal when they turned twelve, their parents sending a note that stated: "The boys should be old enough to fend for themselves by now."

They had a hard time managing their younger sister, but they loved her, each in their own way. The dark eyes one had grown to be sensitive to people's feelings, caring, with a sweet disposition. The light eyed brother had been an apathetic young man, not drawn into himself or bottled up, but uncaring and cold. He loved his brother and sister, but his heart didn't have room for others.

By the time the girl had turned fifteen, she had adopted her parent's dislike of her brothers, leaving them to live with their grandparents in Italy.

Over the course of the years, the boys hearts had warmed over to two others: Another young man, about a year older, with no family and empty eyes. And a girl, younger, with haunted eyes.

The four became very close, inseparable. Each had their own aspirations, plans for a future that included eachother. They basically lived together, frequently spending nights at one or another's house.

The girl wanted to be an author, and she wrote her first work about two years after they all met. A series of short stories, things that the four friends had done or been through, some of which were written from the twin's point of view, or about them. Secretly, she sent a manuscript to the boys' parents.

When there was a reply, she told them what she had done. She opened the letter infront of them, looking over it before hesitantly reading it out, her voice soft and sad with pity. "Don't those boys have anything better to do than mope about? This was an emergency address, and that _clearly _was not an emergency. We've changed the mailbox address. Perhaps when we believe you can think better of your actions, we shall forward it."

That was it. No hello, no goodbye. Nothing.

The empty eyed friend looked at them piteously, and the dark eyed brother bit his lip, saddened. His eyes were wide, shimmering with tears as he stood and walked around the kitchen, hands trembling when he pushed himself up.

The light eyed brother was angry, fuming. How dare someone upset his brother? How dare his _parents _upset his brother? _No one_ made his brother cry, no one hurt his sibling. It was unspeakable, it was not allowed. And yet, despite his protectiveness, he hadn't stopped the hurting. He snatched car keys from off the counter, "Let's go."

Everyone stood, except the girl. He had looked into her eyes, relaying the message that this was something they needed to be alone for. She nodded and looked away, letting the guys have their time together for now.

They were gone for hours, and she fell asleep waiting infront of the television. When she awoke, the news was on. Three boys had been in a car accident.


End file.
